


How... Did I Get Here?

by PurpleMango



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: BAMF Spencer Reid, Batfamily Shenanigans, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dimension Travel, One Shot, Sad Spencer Reid, Wayne Manor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleMango/pseuds/PurpleMango
Summary: Spencer Reid gets transported universes, happens along Batman, and ends up with a job as the resident quirky profiler to the Bat Family(pretty much a crack one-shot I had written)





	How... Did I Get Here?

Spencer Reid was out watching the snow fall when it happened.

The night was peaceful, calm, and Spencer was sitting on a park bench, letting the snow cover him in silence. Deep in his brain, thinking about Maeve, he didn’t notice the streetlight above him flicker out.

How he never got to tell her that he loved her, how he wished he could have held her before she’d died. He wished that girl had shot him instead of Maeve.

100 days. 

He only got 100 days with Maeve.

Spencer absentmindedly ran his thumb over the book inside his side bag, the same book she’d given to him. However, when he blinked out of his thoughts, the streetlight flickered back on… and when Spencer looked around, he wasn’t in the same place as before.

 

Spencer blinked at the large park that he was looking out on.

That- 

Spencer frowned.

He’d been sitting on bench in Washington Park, but now- now he was looking out on a small grassy patch with unfamiliar buildings rising in the background. And the grass. It was dewey, the air just getting chilly, the snow that Spencer had been sitting in was just… gone.

Spencer took out his phone, sure he was having some type of hallucination and pressed the first number on speed dial.

“Hello?”

“Derek I think i’m either having some type of hallucination or i’ve been drugged. I know you were probably sleeping but I was out getting some fresh air and-”

“You got the wrong number.” And that- that right there wasn’t Derek. 

Then the line died.

Spencer Reid took a deep breath, trying not to panic.  Maybe he’d misdialed. 

Right, because it was a malfunction with the technology. He’d have Garcia look at his phone later.

Dialing the second number in his phone, he waited for Hotch to answer, knowing the man would never leave Spencer’s call unanswered. Clenching his hands, he waited.

_ “The number you dialed is not in service. Please try again.” _

Spencer was now officially panicking. 

He tapped on google maps, typing in the closest police station like Garcia had taught him to do if he ever got separated from the team, and started walking.

 

Spencer was walking with his head down though the park, following the phone, when he accidentally knocked into someone. He looked up, grimacing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was-”

He stopped short. Not because the woman wearing a green skintight suit that almost looked to be made of vines was glaring up at him, but because of the plant she looked to be planting in the ground. 

“Is that a Attenborough's Pitcher Plant?” Spencer took a step forward, eyes locked on the appropriately named plant that was colored with light greens and purples in the dawn light.

The woman’s glare faltered. “You know what that is?”

Spencer nodded. “Of course. They were named after the famed naturalist Sir David Attenborough, and were discovered recently. 2007 I think, in the Philippines.” Spencer knelt down next to the woman, gazing at the plant in awe.  “It’s characterized by bell shaped pitchers which, some experts claim, are large enough to trap rats in them… though this one is so large it looks big enough to eat a cat.”

The woman’s glare was now gone, a sly smile now gracing her lips. “Hopefully it’ll be big enough to eat people soon.”

Spencer chuckled. “That would be a sight.” He stood back up. “Are you sure you want to plant it here though? This climate isn’t the best for it.”

The woman grinned wider, standing up as well. “Watch and learn.” She held out her hands and Spencer watched as the plant grew, seeming to respond to the woman’s murmured praise.

“Whoa.” 

Spencer had so many questions. For example:  _ how ? _

And then there was a muffled thump sound and Spencer turned to see a man in a black plated suit, his face covered with a black cowl and a big symbol of what seemed to be a bat on his chest.

All Spencer could process was the man’s outfit, his brain seeming to freeze.

However, when he blinked again, the man was fighting the woman, long vines emerging from the ground to try to smash the man in black. But the man was like a  _ ninja _ , dodging, rolling and evading the long green vines. 

“Give up Ivy!”

“Never!” The woman screamed back.

Spencer didn’t dare even go for the gun on his hip, not knowing who he’d shoot at if he did. But there seemed to be no need, because then the woman was on the ground, restrained, and the man was pointing what looked to be a weapon at the plant and-

Spencer moved to stand in front of the plant. “Wait! Don’t shoot!”

The man paused, clearly surprised. “Who are you?”

“Let me get my credentials.” Spencer licked his lips, slowly digging his badge out and flicking it open. “Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI.”

“Step aside doctor. Don’t make me move you.”

Spencer shook his head. “This plant is classified as critically endangered.” He glanced at the woman. “I don’t know her or why you don’t like her, but this plant is endangered and as a man of science I can’t let it die.”

“She was planning on feeding it live people.”

The woman wailed from the ground. “That’s what he eats! You can’t kill my baby!”

Spencer flinched, giving the woman a stern look. “Please be quiet miss. I’m trying to help.” He looked back to the man. “If she can… make it go back to- to a normal plant, will you let it be?”

The man stared at him, not moving for a second, before growling and lowering his weapon. “Fine.”

Spencer sighed, kneeling down next to the woman. “Ivy- May I call you Ivy?” The woman just looked at him, obviously not amused. “I want to keep your plant safe from harm, but I can’t do that when it’s taller than me. Can you tell it- tell it to shrink or something?”

Rolling her green eyes, the woman sighed, looking past Spencer to the plant. She murmured out a few words of apology in the same tone that Spencer heard JJ use all the time with Henry, telling the plant that  _ ‘he needed to go back to his original size, and that mommy was sorry’ _ .

Spencer watched the plant slowly shrink, before carefully re-potting it in the ceramic container that was off to the side. He stood, holding the plant close to his chest. The man with the dark mask was holding Ivy by the arm. “Where is she going?”

“She’s getting sent to Arkham Asylum.”

Spencer frowned, not liking the sound of this ‘Asylum’. “She needs treatment, not to be locked up!”

The man looked both amused with him and annoyed. “It’s not a question.” Then he started to drag the woman away. 

Spencer didn’t know what to do but wave at the woman weekly, before sighing and fishing out his phone again. He was definitely having some type of mental break.

 

Walking into the police station, he was met with a surprising amount of guns pointed his way. “PUT DOWN THE PLANT!”

Spencer slowly put down the plant, sighing. “Look, not to be antagonistic, but if you’re expecting the plant to come alive and eat people, it already tried to do that. That one lady in green? Yeah, she was hauled away from here by the man dressed in all black.”

None officers moved. 

Reid closed his eyes for a second, wishing he would just snap out of this crazy dream. Finally he let out a big sigh, opening his eyes again. “I have a badge. Please  _ don't  _ shoot me.” Drawing out his badge again, for the second time in the last few hours, he held it up. “SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. I’m obviously lost, probably suffering from a drug-induced hallucination or a mental break. I need someone to contact my team at the BAU. Preferably Aaron Hotchner because Derek Morgan is more likely to kill me than come pick me up.”

The room was silent. 

A man stepped forward, face wrinkled, but eyes wise behind his glasses. He reminded Spencer of Rossi. “What’s a… BAU?”

Spencer frowned. “Behavioral Analysis Unit? We solve cases of serial killers, rapists, and arsonists mainly… By the way, where are we? I’m not sure I’ve been to this town.”

“Gotham City.”

Spencer Reid tilted his head. “Is that a nickname? Because out of the nineteen thousand, five hundred and twenty two cities in the United States, Gotham City isn’t a name I recognize.”

“You’re kidding?” By now an officer off to the side was lowering his weapon, staring at Reid. “You haven’t heard of Gotham? What about Star City? Central City?”

Spencer Reid pursed his lips. “Okay, so we can rule out just being lost. It’s definitely a mental break. Do you all see that plant? What color is it?”

“What are you talking about kid? The plant’s green and purple.”

With a sigh of relief, he paused. “Wait. Do you know a woman in green named Ivy?”

“Poison Ivy? She’s a notorious super-villain. Why?”

“Super-villain.” The word tasted sour on Spencer’s tongue. “So there are people in weird costumes- sorry  _ supervillains- _  there’s no BAU, i’m in a town i’ve never heard of, and you all can see the same plant I can...”

There was a long pause.

“I think i’m in a different dimension.” He ran a hand though his hair. “That’s why the phone numbers didn’t work! But- How did I get here?”

His mind was running through a thousand possibilities and he wandered through the crowd to a nearby whiteboard, starting to calculate how this happened, immediately forgetting everything around him.

 

Spencer had hit six dead ends, three impossible situations, and sixteen philosophical questions before he sighed, giving up. “Magic. Just  _ magic _ .”

“Some things aren’t easily explained.” Spencer spun around to see a man in a suit, who was looking at him like he was a puzzle. The man with the neatly styled black hair and glittering blue eyes pointed to where the Pitcher plant was sitting next to him on a desk. “You forgot your plant in the middle of the lobby.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Come back to kill it? I  _ thought  _ I told you it was endangered.”

Surprise flashed through the man’s eyes, before he schooled his face into a blank mask. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about. We just met.”

Spencer shrugged. “Yeah. Guess my eidetic memory just thought you were someone else.” He picked up the plant, nodding to the man. “Now I have to go talk to someone about a job, because apparently i’m not from-.”

“I have one for you... A job.”

Spencer eyed the man. “Oh?”

“Room and board included, eight thousand a month.” 

“And why would you offer that? If it’s about your  _ activities _ , I could care less about telling anyone and I’ve been tortured before. It didn’t work then, won’t work now.” Spencer started to walk again, when a hand caught his arm.

“Please.”

Spencer looked down at where the man was grabbing him with clear disdain. “If you let go of me, I  _ might  _ consider it.” And when the man let go, he sighed. “What would this job entail?”

“Cooking, maybe some first aid, and helping recognize patterns of-” The man lowered his voice, “ _ -special _ individuals…”

With a frown, Spencer Reid considered his options, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll work for you, Mr-”

“Bruce Wayne.” Then the man paused, like Spencer was supposed to react to that.

“Mr. Wayne. Do you happen to have a greenhouse?”

Bruce chuckled. “You definitely aren’t from around here.”

 

Apparently (and this took a limo and the mansion for Spencer to realize) Bruce Wayne was extremely rich. Like richer than Rossi. 

Also, it meant that Spencer needed coffee. _(Or maybe that was just the headache he felt coming on.)_

The ‘mansion’ was less like a mansion and more like a old English boarding school.  Except it was only for the man standing next to Spencer and not over two hundred kids. 

Closing his gaping mouth, he nodded. “Okay. So the greenhouse question  _ wasn’t  _ unfounded.” Spencer made sure the plant was secure in his arms, starting up the drive and ignoring the man following him. “Morgan is going to get such a kick out of-”

Spencer Reid froze where he stood.

 

_Morgan. Hotch. Garcia. Rossi. Blake. JJ._

Turning to Bruce Wayne, Spencer tilted his head. “I don’t suppose you have a dimension-altering device that can help me get home? No- actually don’t answer that. I know you don't. You dress up like a bat.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Bruce opened the large front doors for Spencer.

“I have nothing against strange nighttime escapades, trust me. I hear Morgan talk with Penelope enough to not have most things faze me, but dressing up as a bat and then beating up women for trying to grow plants? Color me fazed.”

A tiny boy scurried past them with a pistol and messy hair, grinning as he past at Bruce. “Morning Dad.”

“DAMIEN! WHERE’S MY GUN!” A loud yell echoed from the hall the boy had come, and then a teenage boy was storming past them, a different gun in hand. 

“Jason, don’t shoot your brother.”

The boy paused. “Which one?”

“Any of them.”

The boy scowled, storming off. “You’re such a _ fun leach _ .”

Spencer blinked, turning around on his heel. “And with  _ that _ , i’m going back to the police station.”

Bruce moved to stand in the doorway. “My butler’s on vacation and I need help.”

“Mental help. Which, by the way, i’m not really that type of doctor… Well I am, but i’m not open for sessions.” He eyed Bruce. “Look, I need coffee and somewhere to put this plant. Then i’ll decide what to do from there.”

 

After the plant was put in the greenhouse (which Reid had scoffed at when he had seen) and he’d had two cups of coffee, he finally looked up to see five sets of eyes on him. 

“You really like coffee.”

Spencer fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, his brain working a little better now that he was actually somewhat awake. “Yeah, I guess so…” He pulled out his phone, sighing as he slumped in the chair and pressed the speed dial, hoping that Morgan would answer.

He heard the dial of a phone, and then- “Hello?”

Spencer’s eyes shot open and he stared at Bruce, whose voice had come though the phone. “No...”

“Bruce pressed a button, ending the call, but Spencer didn’t move. “What a coincidence.”

“A coincidence is a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances that have no apparent causal connection with one another. From a statistical perspective, coincidences are inevitable and often less remarkable than they may appear intuitively. This- this is just  _ annoying _ .”

The whole table stared at Spencer.

“What’re you- some type of genius?”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but i do have an IQ of 187 and eidetic memory and can read twenty thousand words per minute.” He looked down at his coffee cup, frowning. “Yes... I’m a genius.”

One of the boys with a wide grin looked to Bruce. “He’s cute. Can we keep him?”

“Maybe. He’s from a different dimension though.” Bruce had his back turned, making tea.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Do you usually talk about keeping people like their pets or is that something related to the bat costume?”

The boy that seemed like the oldest looked outraged. “You told him?”

Spencer tilted his head. “He showed up when Miss Ivy was planting her extremely rare Attenborough's Pitcher Plant, and when he dragged her away-” He sent the man’s back a glare. “Which I  _ still  _ don’t agree with- I had already heard his voice and seen his body type, thus me figuring out he was the bat-guy later when he showed up at the police station.”

Bruce turned, irritated look on his face. “She’s insane! She was going to have that thing eat people!”

“That’s what it does!” Spencer stood, nerves forgotten. “It’s characterized by bell shaped pitchers which, some experts claim, are large enough to trap rats in them and it uses it to feed! So unless you’re planning on killing both me and the extremely rare plant that I promised to take care of, then I’ll take my plant and go!”

The man snorted. “You couldn’t probably find your way to the plant, much less back.”

“Two lefts, down the stairs, a right, down the hallway six doors.” Spencer glowered at the man as he passed. “Now goodbye Mr. Wayne. I’ll see myself out.”

 

A girl in a wheelchair sat in front of the door, smiling softly. “Dr. Reid… Won’t you stay?”

Spencer fiddled with his sleeves, holding the plant close, voice soft. “Why?”

“Because you’re too thin. Because you worry at the edges of your sleeves like you’re missing someone. Because you’re smart, but your eyes are sad…” The girl tilted her head. “Because your shoulder is dislocated and you haven’t asked for pain medication once.”

He cringed. His shoulder had gotten dislocated when one of Ivy’s vines had accidentally hit him, but he’d been too caught up in everything to really mention it to anyone. “I’m not sure… My family, they’re not even in this dimension.”

A girl walked over, eyes curious, and she signed quickly to the girl in the wheelchair. “ _ What’s he saying? Is he going to stay? I like him, he’s not dangerous.” _

Spencer smiled widely at the girl, setting down the plant carefully before signing.  _ “I like to think of myself as non-threatening, but I have a gun and I’m not a bad shot.” _

_ “So… harmless.” _ The girl grinned at him.  _ “My name’s Cassandra.” _

_ “Dr. Spencer Reid, but just call me Reid. Or just-”  _ He shook his fingers in an ‘R’ shape.  _ “Most people just do that to get my attention when I talk too fast.” _

The girl laughed, a broken sound, but it made Reid smile.  _ “You going to stay here?” _

Reid looked between the two girls. “Yeah. I guess I will.”   
  


 

Spencer was cooking, one of Rossi’s dishes he’d memorized how to make, when Damien caught his eye. Struggling to reach a box on one of the top shelves, Jason moved behind the boy, grabbing the box easily. “I don’t need your help Todd!” The boy glared at his brother, but when the taller boy just put the box on the tallest shelf, the boy’s eyes widened before he turned an angry red. “I’m going to  _ eviscerate  _ you!”

Jason just chuckled, walking over and using a spoon to take a bite of the food Spencer was making. “Hmmm…”

Sighing, he moved to hand Damien the box. “You do know, in 2002, eighteen percent of familial murders involved a sibling victim?” 

Both boys looked at him blankly. 

Damien shook his head. “You scare me sometimes.”

 

 

It was a bad day. 

Jason had gone patrolling and Bruce was yelling at him, prompting him to yell back louder. Spencer didn’t mind the yelling much, quietly muttering as many digits of Pi as he could remember to keep himself from having a panic attack while he made an apple pie for later.

However, gasping breath made his head whip around, eyes fixing in on where Damian was curled up in a corner, hands over his ears. Forgoing the pie crust he was rolling out, Spencer hurried over to the boy, sinking down beside him. “Damien, repeat after me. Three point one four”

The boy looked up at him with wary eyes, breath labored. “Three… point one- one four?”

“One five nine two six.”

The boy’s breathing slowed a little, eyes more focused. “One- fi- five nine… two six…”

“Five three, five nine.”

“Five three five nine.” The boy then gave Spencer a weak smile, seeming to be less panicky. “Did you make me repeat the digits of Pi? Nerd...”

Spencer huffed a laugh. “The brain can’t panic and process numbers that are out of order at the same time, so I find repeating the digits of Pi helps keep panic attacks away.” He moved to stand, offering a hand. “Wanna help me make my pie?”

The boy grinned, taking the hand. “You were repeating the digits of Pi… while making a pie?”

“It’s not just you who doesn’t like loud noises y’know. My mother used to yell all the time.” Spencer rolled out the pie crust again. “But now it’s Pi for me. You can go ahead and skin those apples and cut them into slices.”

Damien quickly grabbed a knife, more than happy to do the work, both not noticing how Bruce and Jason had stopped arguing to watch them.

 

 

“So how many PHD’s do you have?”

Spencer smiled. “Three, plus a three bachelors.”

“Three?” Jason tilted his head. “Is that a lot?”

“In PHD’s… not really, but in bodies? Yes. Did you know that a serial killer is typically a person who murders three or more people, usually in service of abnormal psychological gratification, with the murders taking place over more than a month and including a significant period of time between them?”

Jason just grinned, leaning against the counter. “You're a strange one, Dr. Reid.”

“I know.” Spencer's smile was quick.


End file.
